Say Goodbye to Yesterday, Before Tomorrow Mourning
by Designated Writer
Summary: A short piece on Niles saying goodbye. Complete!


**__**

Say Goodbye to Yesterday, Before Tomorrow Mourning

On the eve of her funeral, he ran into Marta their best maid and his closest confidant on the staff, with suitcase in hand.

She offered both her and the staffs' condolences and relayed Missy Crane's "excuse" for missing the funeral the following day. She informed him that Missy Crane was "going out of the country" and that she would "talk to him upon her return in a few weeks." Lastly, she told him that she would be "accompanying Missy Crane" and that the rest of the "hired help" was given time off until her return, so that he would be "on his own."

He wished Marta a "bon voyage".

As for him, he never felt more alone in his entire life.

He shivered as a chill ran down his spine, not unlike the one he felt all day. He built a small fire in the fireplace, lit a few candelabras for light, and then went upstairs to change.

He returned in his black, silk pajamas that he always seemed to drown in. For they were extremely baggy and hung loose on his rail, thin frame. He also had on his matching, black dressing gown-the last birthday present he would ever receive from her.

Before settling in for the evening, he called the Four Seasons hotel and checked to make sure Frasier and Lilith were set for the night and reminded him that he would pick them up promptly at 9 the next morning, and together they would go and pick up their Dad.

He walked over to the piano and sat down and closed his tired and bloodshot eyes that screamed and begged for a long slumber. He had gotten little, if any sleep the past week.

He played the opening chords of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, before stopping.

He crawled under the protective environment that the piano offered him. It was like he was a little kid again. For as long as he was under there, nothing bad could ever happen, no one could ever hurt him (although some bully always managed to do so).

He looked at the crudely drawn picture that was encased in a frame that he brought down from his bedroom. Good thing he and Maris had separate bedrooms, for she would be appalled knowing that this piece of "art" adorned his nightstand. He tightly clung onto the picture and brought it in to his chest, close to his heart.

He closed his eyes, where upon the tears threatened to spill out once again. Like he had all week, he fought them off with the sniffles. A small smile was conceived as a memory came flooding back to him.

It seemed as though it was only yesterday.

How he longed and wished that it were.

For it was so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

-------

Not unlike this Sunday afternoon, this one was also, cold, damp, and rainy.

He had his chin resting on his hands, and looked miserably out the rain-stained window from the top bunk. He had been bedridden for almost three weeks. He had been laid up fighting off yet another illness that had invaded his frail, thin and weak body.

"See ya later Niles," Frasier bid his farewell from the lower bunk, as he finished tying his tie.

"Where are…" Before he could finish his question, he was beset by another violent coughing fit. The cough rattled his already weakened and fluid filled lungs.

When he was through, he was wheezing and gasping for breath.

Frasier, all to familiar with this song and dance, went over to his brother's neatly, highly organized and uncluttered desk, retrieved, and handed his little brother his inhaler.

While his brother inhaled some much-needed puffs of air and medicine, Frasier tousled his brother's hair and thought.

As much as he liked to tease and compete with his brainy kid brother, and even though he often saw him as a threat for Mother's attention, he loved him too. Especially whenever he was sick like this, he was always so vulnerable and weak. His jealousy of their Mother's attention of him would usually hold a "cease fire" until his brother got well. Niles needed her at these times, much more than he did.

By the time the whole coughing and wheezing spell had run its long and wicked course, Frasier was long gone.

He found himself both winded and utterly exhausted.

He plopped his head down on his pillows and crawled back under the covers. He was still running a temperature and felt chilled. He didn't feel up to doing his homework that Frasier had brought home to him so, he looked over his other reading options.

His Father had given him a new Archie comic book before he left for another stakeout last night. His Father said he picked out that one especially for him, since it was a 'Jug Head Double Digest'. He picked up the book his Mother had loaned to him (after much pleading on his part for the past few months to be allowed to do so).

He had another migraine so reading was out. He picked up his journal. He didn't feel much like writing either. He picked up his sketchpad and crayons and decided to draw.

It was during one of his frequent hospital stays for his congenital heart condition that Niles discovered his latent and love for drawing.

He scribbled and drew, and about 45 minutes later, he was done.

He held it up and looked over his artwork and frowned.

He mentally degraded himself and said that Frasier would 'have done much better.'

He started to cry.

Tears, mixed with sweat from his fever, fell, and before long, he had cried himself to sleep.

A while later his Mother came in to take his temperature and found him sleeping, and cradled in his arms was his picture.

Carefully, she removed the picture that was tightly griped by his long, fingers that allowed him to play the piano so masterfully at his young age.

On the back, in his impeccably neat, six-year-old handwriting, he wrote:

****

I love you Mommy. Thank you for letting me borrow your book. This is my favorite scene.

__

She turned it over and smiled.

It was an Egyptian battle scene from Aida. He had even identified all the characters in his sketch, from Radames to the jealous Amneris. She chuckled softly when she realized that her youngest son had misspelled Amonasro.

She leaned over and stroked back his hair and then caressed his damp cheek.

"Mommy loves you too Niles," she whispered and kissed him softly on his cheek, "and you will always be her special little guy."

-------

He had just dropped off Frasier and Lilith at the Seattle Airport.

Frasier had insisted in catching the red eye back to Boston. Frasier claimed it was because of a 'patient', but he thought otherwise. More like it, and not that he could really blame him entirely, Frasier was trying to escape the pain and emptiness they all were feeling. Truth be told he wished he had his own "escape" 3000 some odd miles away to go to.

Neither brother was very close to the old man. The thought of trying to establish a real Father and Son bond now, after all these years…..it was hard enough to maintain the distant one they shared now, and that was with her assistance..…now with her gone…..well…..

He got out of his silver Mercedes and locked the door behind him.

He started to retrace his steps from earlier in the day. Up the grassy knoll to where it overlooked a small stream. The winds had picked up and were colder and were blowing in from the north. He lifted the collar of his black trench coat, in a failed attempt to cut off the sting and chilliness the wind brought with it.

Upon reaching his destination, his knees buckled from the heavy weight of the stress he carried around all week, and not to mention the emotional roller coaster he had been on since last week.

Breaking his promise to Maris (who proclaimed at her aunt's funeral that real men 'never show their emotions-in public or otherwise') and begging that he would be forgiven for not doing so sooner, he finally let the dam burst.

Unleashed were all of the tears that he had stockpiled so tightly inside of him all week. For the first time that week, he did not try and stifle them with a sniffle or a blink of an eye. On the contrary, he allowed them to cascade freely down his face and cheeks, which were quickly becoming tear stained.

With a trembling hand he laid a single white rose on the freshly piled dirt.

He got up and whispered something both lovingly and softly. So softly in fact, that no one could hear it.

"I love you always and I'll miss you. Goodbye Mother."


End file.
